Sunflowers and Shrimp
by MattsyKun
Summary: 'She could hear his heartbeat, quick was slightly quicker than she was used to, probably from panic.'  Greenland keeps having nightmares, on top of her being sick, so she goes to the coldest place on earth: Russia.
1. Hot Winter Music

**Sunflowers and Shrimp**

**Summary: **"If Russia could help Iceland, he could help her too. After all, it was very cold in Russia." Greenland's feeling very sick, so she goes to the world conference in the second coldest place on earth: Russia. RussiaOC

**Rating: **T (possibly… .)

**Genre: **Romance/ Supernatural

Okay, whoot~ My first Hetalia fic~ I want a scarf like Ivan's. And since Iceland was taken, I chose the next best country: Greenland! I know way more about Iceland, seeing as I lived there for two years, but Greenland is just as awesome. Arctic Nation FTW~

Just a little something before I start: Greenland's staple of the economy is fish, mainly shrimp. Mmm… shrimp… I think I'll go get some after I finish :D Because of global warming, the shrimp are moving farther north where it's colder. Also, if all of the ice around Greenland were to melt, Alfred would have to say goodbye to Florida!

Alfred: O.o||| …n-no…

Gretchie speaks Danish because I can't find a English-to-Greenlandic translator online for free. Besides, in some parts of Greenland, some people speak both Danish and Greenlandic. If someone finds a Greenlandic translator, kindly point me in that direction…?

Also, with the exception of this chapter, each chapter is based off of a song. (Well, the title is based off of a song, but not the chapter)

**Chapter 1: Winter Hot Music**

For what seemed to be the millionth time that day, Greenland coughed, swaying slightly.

It wasn't looking good for her country. The fishermen were not meeting their quota for shrimp, causing the economy to suffer. The nation was warmer than it should be, and ice was melting. Ice that had never melted before, that never knew the feel of the heat, was melting, revealing islands that even she didn't know exist. The winters came later and didn't last as long. The Arctic was slowly being poisoned, causing the nation to suffer.

She coughed again. "…too hot…" she muttered hoarsely. Her country was too warm. Much too warm. If the trend continued, there would be no shrimp to fish for, and then what would happen? She had already relied on her neighbors and her brother too much.

The not-so-cold arctic air blew around her, and she shivered, although it was not from the cold. Shudders wracked her body more often these days, combined with fever and headaches. Many a day she spent working, trying to ignore these feelings of illness as she listened to her boss talk on and on about the state of the economy and of the country, as if she didn't already know. He couldn't see the dark circles under her eyes, or feel the unnatural heat that radiated from the normally cold nation. She would reach her bedroom at night and remain conscious enough just to open the window before she would pass out in her bed. Her sleep was often interrupted by fever-induced nightmares. She would wake, trembling from her fever and the nightmare, and wouldn't go back to sleep until the following night.

Her entire body ached, and it was _too hot…_

Not feeling well, she returned to her home. Normally the snow would have fallen by this time, and her house would be a frozen domain, but now her house was just as abnormally warm as the land. She shivered, once again not from the cold, and dragged herself to the kitchen and grabbed a frozen washcloth from her freezer before collapsing on the couch.

"Nnngh…" she groaned, using the last of her strength to throw the frozen cloth onto her forehead. She relished in the freezing temperature as it spread throughout her body, giving her relief if only temporary. She sighed as she covered her eyes with one arm. The heat made her sluggish and lazy, making her despise it even more.

As she tried to rest, her mind wandered to the World Summit meetings that were taking place in a week. If she remembered correctly, they were taking place in Russia, the second coldest place on earth. Her body shuddered with delight as she imagined the cold. Yes… it would be in November this year, when the temperatures would be freezing, unlike past years where it had been in the spring or summer. She could see her family again, and her friends. She didn't really have any enemies, unless you counted Germany, who had picked on her when she was younger. America had protected her then, earning him her undying gratitude. Russia had even helped her brother Iceland when they were younger. True, her brother didn't trust the large nation, but she had felt something ever since she had first seen him.

She managed to push herself to her feet with newfound strength. A small smile crossed her face; if Russia could help Iceland, he could help her, too.

After all, it was VERY cold in Russia.

She made her way over to the phone and picked it up, dialing a number with trembling hands. When she heard the dialing tone, she put the phone up to her ear, chewing nervously on one of her nails.

"…HAYOO~ you're talking to the Hero!" She heard from the other line. She heard another voice say "Answer the phone properly, you git!" before she spoke.

"H-Hi, Alfred… it's G-Gretchen…" She stammered. She cursed herself; why was she so weak? Sure, he had protected her, but why was she stammering?

"Gretchie!" Alfred cheered, "I haven't heard from you in a while! Are you feeling better?"

"I should be asking you that, what with the oil spill and all." Gretchen said with a grimace. She had heard about the gulf oil spill from her neighbor Canada, and was worried, but was too sick to do anything.

"…it's getting better. Still, how are you?" Alfred asked again. Gretchen fell into a coughing fit, covering her mouth with a hand. When she removed it, blood lay splattered in her palm.

"…I-I've been better." She muttered, pulling out a handkerchief and wiping her hand with it before moving into the small kitchen. She rinsed her hands underneath the lukewarm water before drying them.

"…still not doing so good?"

Gretchen sighed. "No. The economy's suffering, still. That's why I'm going to the World Summit this year."

She heard Alfred gasp on the other end. "Really? Hey! Arthur! Gretchen's going to the Summit this year!"

"I heard it, you git!" Arthur hollered back, "I'll call Ivan and make the reservation. The Summit's in three days."

"Mange tak, du to." Gretchen said before hanging up on the two bickering nations. Her head was starting to spin as she climbed back on to the couch. Snow, the arctic fox that was her constant companion, curled up on her stomach, yawning before stretching and licking Gretchen's chin. She affectionately scratched the fox's chin before falling into a feverish sleep.

**TRANSLATIONS:**

Mange tak, du to: Thank you very much you two. (Danish)

Alright, the first chapter is done. (phew) Now to get to the Ivan-centric chapter~

(JUMPS) AAGDSKFJSDWTFBBQ oh. The wind closed my door. I seriously freaked out there. R-Russia...? Are you haunting my room...? . .


	2. Take Yourself to Higher Places

**Sunflowers and Shrimp**

Nyaa~ General Winter, GTFO of my house! I don't want it THAT cold! D: When I go to bed it's wonderful, but when I wake up it's an ice box in here~ Come back in the summer, Winter~

Good news is, I wrote a Marukaite Chikyuu and a Hatafutte Parade for Greenland! :D

I know why certain words are spelt certain ways, like Matvey for Matthew. YAY RUSSIAN ALPHABET. I am so taking Russian for a language class at my college. :D

**Chapter 2: Take Yourself to Higher Places**

_I should not have come here. I should have stayed home. I am a foolish idiot. I should have stayed home, had some suaasat, cuddled up in front of my TV, and relaxed. Why am I here?_

_Oh, that's right._

The Arctic nation was exhausted and miserable. After a harrowing six hour flight, she was at her wits end. She had taken medicine prior to boarding the plane and while she was on it, hoping it would knock her out for the entire trip. Unfortunately, the medicine failed in that aspect, and she was left sitting in her seat, curled up in a ball and whimpering pathetically as she tried to ignore the twisting feeling in her stomach. She was afraid to eat anything, for fear of throwing it back up, but by the end of the trip, her stomach was growling weakly. Grudgingly, she grabbed a sandwich at the airport before she caught a taxi to the hotel.

By the time she had reached the hotel where the conference was to take place, Gretchen was . As she dragged her suitcase into the main lobby, she was promptly tackled by the United States of America. She laughed giddily as she returned the nation's bear hug.

"Amerika~! You haven't been to my "virgin land" in forever, not since you put up Thule!" She exclaimed. Not too far off, she heard a distinct laugh; she couldn't place it. Alfred chuckled and looked the Arctic nation over.

"yeah… man, you look terrible! Are you alright?" Alfred asked. Gretchen smiled, brushing her bangs out of her face (and failing).

"Ah, yeah! Um, I'm totally okay." She laughed, which promptly turned into a bout of coughing. She felt her lungs constrict, and struggled to take in air. She felt Alfred's hand massage her back to quell the violent cough that was welling up inside of her. She gasped for a moment before shuddering slightly.

"…thanks."

Alfred chuckled. "You look as if you can't even stand up straight. There's about a half an hour before the meeting actually starts. Maybe you should take a nap!" the nation exclaimed.

"Nah, I'm totally fine. Just a little…loooooooopy~" The nation giggled, spinning around in a circle before stumbling and nearly falling over. Alfred managed to catch the dizzy-looking nation before she hurt herself.

"C'mon, I'll take you to the meeting room, and you can take a nap." America said, pulling the arctic nation down the hallway to where the boardroom was located. Once the two nations were in the room, Gretchen pulled out a chair and collapsed into it, relishing in the comfort it provided. The arctic nation slumped forward with a groan.

"This chair feels so nice…" she groaned. Her aching body relished in the feeling of the [oddly] super-relaxing chair. The chair was plush, and she sighed, relaxing gratefully. She suddenly felt sleepy; the medicine was finally taking effect. It was relieving the pressure in her head, but she still felt insufferably hot from her fever. She coughed weakly before finally succumbing to her need to sleep.

Alfred chuckled. "Wow, you must really be sick. These are the same chairs we used the last time you came here."

He looked down. Gretchen had curled up in the chair, her breathing coming in soft gasps. He frowned, but thought nothing of it. He knew that she was often sick, and thought it was only a problem with congestion. He gave her shoulders a friendly squeeze and left the nation to her slumber.

Unfortunately, it was anything but congestion.

There was a low humming in her ears, making the Nordic nation growl under her breath and shift in her chair. Her body felt stiff as she tried to make herself more comfortable.

She let out a quiet groan, clutching her stomach. Her stomach felt as if it was twisted into a knot, and the nausea was choking her. She didn't want to move; it seemed like every move she made caused her head to pound harshly and made her feel dizzy. She shivered, feeling sweat form on her forehead.

"…okay. Let's take a 10-minute break." She heard a deep voice say. She blinked, feeling dizzy as she heard the nations around her shuffle to their feet.

"…damn…"

She managed to push herself into a sitting position, one hand shielding her eyes from the bright light of the boardroom. She peered our blearily, stretching her stiff body. To her horror, she saw an entire list of important messages and notes written on the board in tidy handwriting.

She had slept through half of the meeting.

She slammed her hand down on the desk, and promptly regretted it as the loud noise made her head throb. She rubbed her forehead, shivering violently. She felt worse than crap, her stomach turning and her head pounding in time with her stomach. She was about to lay her head on the desk when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Are you okay?"

"Do I look okay to you?" Greenland snapped, biting back the urge to puke. She sat up, glaring at the man talking to her.

She froze.

Russia.

The Russian smiled. "...not feeling well, da?"

She rolled her eyes. "What gives you _that_ idea, I wonder. Just leave me alone and let me sleep." She nestled her head back into her arms, relishing in the darkness. Unfortunately, her attempt to sleep was interrupted by the hand on her shoulder.

"Hungry?"

"Go AWAY." Gretchen snapped, swiftly sitting up and regretting it. Her head spun and she almost clamped a hand to her mouth to resist the urge to vomit.

"I'll bring you something back, da?" Russia smiled before leaving the boardroom.

Gretchen wrapped her arms around her stomach, her eyes narrowing into slits as the pain bubbled in her gut. She couldn't take it anymore; she had to get out. She knew going to the meeting was a bad idea, but she had done it anyways. The fever was taking over her mind, making her sweat profusely as she panted heavily.

"Ah, the Virgin Land awakens!" She heard someone say. She looked up wearily to see Francis walking in with a young man holding a polar bear. For a moment, in her fever-filled mind, she thought it was America, but realized it was her northern cousin, Canada.

"What did you say about my daughter?"

Gretchen groaned; great, now her self-proclaimed father, Denmark, had entered, and was now swinging his trademark axe at the Frenchman, who ran about the room, laughing as he teased the Dane. Gretchen wanted to bang her head against the table, and would have if her head wasn't already in pain. She narrowed her eyes and let out a strained whimper as she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Here."

Gretchen looked up, tiredly glaring at the Russian, who held a steaming cup of something. He held it out to her, and she stared at the cup.

"What is that?"

"Soup. It will make you feel better, da?" Russia said. Greenland continued to stare warily at the cup of soup.

"How do I know it's not poisoned?"

"And face wrath of Matias? I think not." Russia chuckled. Greenland glared at the Russian before taking the soup from his hands.

"Well… I need something to pick me up… I've tried, but nothing is working." She muttered. She took a sip of the soup, feeling its warmth flow down her throat. She almost coughed, her head spinning as she felt her body flush. However, she felt her stomach relax slightly as she downed the rest of the soup.

She stood up and stretched as the other nations filed into the meeting room. Some of them acknowledged the Nordic nation, while others simply sat at their seats and talked to the nations next to them.

"…I don't know where my soup went! I went back to get it, and it was gone! When I find the bloody idiot who stole my soup…"

"Ah, who cares! Somebody probably threw it out!" Alfred laughed. England sighed and rubbed his temples as he sat down next to Gretchen.

"I see you are awake, Gretchen. You look a little…peaked. Are you sure you are alright?" He asked. Gretchen sighed as her head pounded viciously.

"I'm….fine. Thanks…Arthur." She muttered. Her stomach tightened painfully, and she sat back down. America stood at the front of the room, still laughing at Arthur.

"Alright! Is everyone back? Good!" Alfred exclaimed, scanning the room. His eyes stopped on Gretchen, who wrapped her arms around her stomach. She looked up weakly, the bile rising in her throat. Her stomach tossed violently as she pressed a hand to her mouth.

"Would you like to come up and speak?" Alfred asked, oblivious to Greenland's condition. She coughed, her body shuddering.

"I…"

She couldn't hold it back any longer. Gretchen spun around and threw up, tears flowing from her eyes as she emptied the contents of her stomach. As she coughed, she realized that she had thrown up all over England's shoes.

"…hey, Iggy, I think I know where your soup went!" Alfred chuckled nervously.

Gretchen wiped her mouth with her hand, gasping as a heavy blush covered her face. Her brain was muddled, a mass of feverish confusion as she stood up straight.

"I…I'm okay… I think I'm okay…"

A particularly powerful wave of dizziness struck her, and she gasped, her eyes rolling back into her head. She felt her sight fading as she managed to whisper once sentence.

"…I'm not okay…"

With that, Greenland collapsed, allowing the darkness to claim her as she fell.

Hmm, I don't have any translations… I had issues writing the end of this. XD But anywho, this chapter is done!

If anyone can guess the song that I used…. I don't know. You'll win a prize. XD I will tell you the Genre is rock.


	3. Prepare to Drop

**Sunflowers and Shrimp Chapter 3**

**EDIT: I rewrote the last part of this chapter. Again. My beta is shaking a fish at me.**

I will give you a hint for the song that this chapter is based off of. There are no lyrics, and it's a popular multiplayer game with plenty of trolls. :3

**Chapter 3: Prepare to Drop**

"…bloody hell, it's in my shoes…"

Alfred would have laughed at the distraught Englishman who was making a face at his "soupy" shoes, but there was a more pressing matter at hand. The Nordic nation was gasping for air in Ivan's arms, her eyes rolled into the back of her head. The entire meeting room burst into a low hum of conversation as the other nations whispered and gossiped amongst themselves.

The Russian paid them no mind. He pulled off his glove and carefully laid his hand on her forehead. He could feel the intense heat underneath his fingertips, and frowned. Something felt different about her fever, something that he couldn't place. He shook off the feeling and carefully picked Gretchen up.

"Oi! What are you doing, you commie bastard!" Alfred snapped. Ivan glared at the American, who glared back.

"I am going to take her to room. She is ill." He stated, "And I am NOT communist."

As Ivan carried Gretchen out of the meeting room, Arthur and Alfred followed him. An uncomfortable silence filled the space between the three nations as each ignored the sounds of maids cleaning, children shouting, and France's pained screams from another room near the conference room. Deep in thought, America gazed at his arctic cousin.

"What's wrong? I've never seen her this sick before." Alfred said. Arthur winced at the feel of the vomit seeping into his socks and squishing between his toes, a constant reminder of what was wrong with the Nordic nation. He bit his lip; he couldn't remember getting this sick. Alfred had gotten sick when he was younger, but it was nothing compared to what was wrong with Gretchen.

The Russian gritted his teeth as he strode through the foyer, kicking open the door that lead to the rooms on the first floor. He faintly heard Alfred protesting, but chose to ignore the American. He looked down at his fellow arctic nation; she was pale, a trembling hand gripping his scarf.

"Well? What's wrong?"

"It could be her economy," Alfred piped up, "Don't we get sick when our economy's doing bad?"

"It's something else." Arthur frowned, "Unless she's having a civil war, or her country is dying, it wouldn't be this bad. I…I've never seen anything like it." There was no other nation that got sick so easily, with the exception with some of the African nations that were constantly in war. When England had the African colonies under his rule, they bickered, fought, and fell ill, but it wasn't like this. All of his experience with his ill colonies was useless here. The ex-empire was snapped from his thoughts by Alfred's nagging.

"We should take her to a hospital!" Alfred said, his voice tight with anxiety, "She's really sick!"

"That should not be necessary." Ivan snapped, "My key card is in pocket."

Alfred was about to protest again when Arthur elbowed the younger nation in the side. Arthur sternly glared at the younger nation, who sighed and dug the key card out of Ivan's pocket. He swiped the key card and pushed the door open.

Russia gently laid Greenland down on the king-sized bed and brushed her damp hair from her forehead as England collapsed in the chair, immediately pulling off his now-ruined shoes. He had never seen a nation fall as ill as she did. He remembered getting sick when he was young and his sisters caring for him, or after the war when he was bedridden for months and couldn't even feed himself. This was a completely different illness. He wouldn't know.

"…Бедные Гренландии, маленький цветок." Ivan muttered under his breath as he pushed Gretchen's hair from her face. He barely heard England gagging as he peeled the vomit-soaked socks from his feet and threw them in the trash. The smell was overwhelming in the small room, and Alfred opened a window, whining about the stench. Russia wrinkled his noise, and did not stop America from throwing the window wide open and allowing General Winter's frigid breeze to roll in.

"Alfred, please hand me a towel." Arthur said. Alfred wordlessly handed him a towel from Ivan's bathroom before the American joined Russia at Gretchen's bedside.

"…what's wrong with her?" Alfred asked quietly.

"Will you stop asking? I do not know." Ivan gently pressed two fingers at her throat, feeling her pulse. It was rapid, as if she was panicked. The nation let out a strangled whimper, her eyes squeezed shut in pain.

"Maybe it was the medicine she had taken earlier? She did tell me she took medicine on the plane…" Alfred thought aloud. Arthur shook his head.

"With Airport security the way it is, she couldn't have brought something that would do this. You know that better than anyone." Alfred bit his lip, thinking hard.

"Food poisoning?" he suggested, shooting a glance at England. The Britain glared back, huffing indignantly.

"It's something deeper, aru."

The three nations spun around to see China standing in the doorway to the room. A light bulb clicked in Russia's head; Yao was older than him, older than England! If anyone knew what was wrong, it would be him. A small smile spread across the Russian's face; maybe his arctic acquaintance would get the help she needed.

"Jao Jao~ Do you know what is wrong?"

"I have an idea, aru." China said.

**XXXXX**

"_There is nothing you can do, little Greenland. Now that all of your precious allies are out of the way, I will conqueror you for myself."_

"_Where are you?" Greenland asked, looking around wildly. A haunting laugh surrounded the nation, as well as a smothering, uncomfortable heat. She coughed, feeling her body become sluggish and heavy. _

"What's wrong with me? Why…why can't I move?"

"_I am in search of more power. More power… which you can provide. Russia is dead, so his land is yours, correct? If I take over you, all of Russia's oil and land will be will be mine."_

"Russia…dead…? …what…? How… how could Russia be dead…?"

"_I'll be damned if I let you kill me! You've already killed my family!" _"What?"_ she thought, _

"M…my family? Did something happen to them? Papa…Mama….Uncle Sverige…they're dead…?"

"_You will die, little Greenland. And thus, the end of the world will happen." The haunting laugh continued to smother the nation. She cried out, unsure of what to do._

"W-what…? D-don't! Y-you can't! I…I'm scared!"

"_Stop! Stop! Don't hurt me!" she whimpered, trying to curl up in a ball. It felt as if her limbs were being held down by something. She screamed, her voice going hoarse._

"_Gretchen…_Gretchen!"

**Translations:**

Бедные Гренландии, маленький цветок – Poor Greenland, little flower

XXX 

Quite frankly, I don't like the ending to this chapter. Maybe I'll rewrite it later. But for now, Meri Kurisumasu, С Рождеством Христовым, Glædelig jul, and Merry Christmas, everyone! :D


	4. Tomorrow We Must Get Up

**Sunflowers and Shrimp Chapter 4**

Okay! It's the new year, and Denmark is a BITCH TO DRAW. D:

Seriously. Dat hair. BT

Anywho…Grazie to mah Beta~ I love ya, Mattie! *brohug*

Also, if you can tell me what the song in here is without looking it up, you'll win an internet. I don't just give out internets to just anyone, y'know. :D

**Chapter 4: Tomorrow We Must Get Up**

The cold.

It stung her skin, nipping at her like an angry puppy. The Nordic nation loved the cold, relished in it, but this cold was different. Her entire body shuddered as she felt her entire body encased in the cold. It was unnatural, she knew, for the cold to feel like this.

The numbness.

She could feel, or rather, she _couldn't_ feel her arms. Biting her lip, she tried to move her arms, but it felt as if her arms were made of lead. She could feel a biting pain in her arms, and she cried out, trying to move her arms.

The cries.

Someone was shouting her name. She opened her mouth, trying desperately to respond to whoever was calling her name, but no words came out. She then screamed, thrashing against whatever was keeping her pinned down.

"…en! Gretchen! Bloody hell…"

"Ngh… She is strong, da…?"

"Hold her legs down, Alfred!"

She opened her eyes, and she stared, glassy-eyed and unable to see properly. She could see a giant tan blob shadowing her, with two blotches of purple facing her. She squinted slightly, feeling sudden pressure on her arms and around her waist. Panic filled her body and she tried to turn away, roll over, escape from whoever was on top of her somehow.

Unfortunately, she found herself immobile, the pressure on her arms increasing. She shook her head back and forth, crying, screaming for her father. She felt a hand cover her mouth, and she bit it, the taste of copper filling her mouth.

"…Damnit! She bit me!"

"Go get Дaнии!"

She heard the sounds of footsteps swiftly receding, and she paused in her struggle. Denmark? She wanted to cry, to tell them that her father was dead, but her voice wasn't working. The tan blur seemed a little more clear now, and she could make out the shape of the person straddling her. It was male, she determined, but his presence did not quell the fear that filed her.

"…pa…pa…"

She tensed once more, once again trying to throw off the man on her. Inwardly, she smirked; he hadn't expected her to lash out, and he recoiled, giving the Nordic nation enough room to land a few more blows on the man.

Her eyes widened as she felt herself pinned down once more by the man. Tears poured from her eyes as sobs shook her body. She could feel cold air on her cheek before the man whispered in her ear.

"... Это хорошо, небольшой Остров Гренландия. Вы безопасны, да? "

"Pa…pa…dead…" she managed to croak out, closing her tear-filled eyes. A hand reached up to stroke her cheek, gently wiping the tears away. For a brief moment, she could smell blood and vodka before a shout caught her attention.

"Gretchen!"

The pressure was lifted away, and she felt herself enveloped in a tight hug. With a shuddering breath, she inhaled the scent; it was filled with beer, fish, and apples, a scent that she hated to admit that she loved and took comfort in. She knew exactly who it was.

"…Far Danmark…" she muttered, burying her face into his chest. She could hear his heartbeat, quick was slightly quicker than she was used to, probably from panic. She could hear him saying something in Danish, whispering sweet words into her ear, telling her that it would be alright.

"…my girl…I'm here…"

He rocked her back and forth, and she whimpered, clutching at his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist. Tears, part relief and part fear, filled her eyes as her breath hitched. He rubbed her back in small circles and she hiccupped, shuddering slightly. She closed her eyes as Denmark started to sing

"…_now the sun has gone to bed_

_Outside, night lies in wait_

_We must sleep now._

_We must rest our body,_

_Because tomorrow we must get up._

"_The calmness of night is descending_

_All becomes calm, all breathes peace._

_We must sleep now._

_We must rest our body,_

_But tomorrow we will get up._

"_To a lovely day with music,_

_Friends, play and some sweets_

_We must sleep now,_

_We must rest our body_

_Now that the moon has risen…"_

Denmark smiled as Greenland's breathing became calm, the tears no longer flowing as she slept in his arms. Her body twitched occasionally, but she was otherwise peaceful and limp. England and America relaxed significantly, while Russia looked mildly perturbed.

"…what was that? Maybe Jao was wrong…" Russia muttered. Alfred frowned.

"Maybe it was just a feverish nightmare!" he exclaimed, "I mean, I've had some pretty crazy dreams."

"No."

The three nations turned their attention to Denmark. The self-proclaimed king was gently stroking Greenland's head, being mindful of the curl. His eyes held a worried look to them, something that was very much unheard of for him.

"Something…is wrong. She never has nightmares like this," he muttered, "It's not just the fever."

Russia raised an eyebrow. "Who says it isn't? How do you know—"

"Greenland has been through a lot of things," Denmark interrupted, "Even though I've tried to protect her for so long…it hasn't been enough." His eyes had a glassy, far-away look to them.

"Back during World War 2… Germany took me hostage. I tried to protect her, while protecting the people in my country… I tried so hard…and yet he almost took her as well. I was lucky enough for America to protect her for me, but… for months after that…she had nightmares."

"_Papa! Papa!"_

"_Gretchen?" Denmark asked, rubbing his eyes sleepily as his daughter jumped onto him. He felt her snuggle close to his chest, sobbing quietly. "What's wrong, child?"_

"_Papa, I'm scared!" Greenland whimpered, "D-Don't leave me…"_

"_I won't. Now, tell me what's wrong."_

_The young nation hiccupped, rubbing her eyes. "I…had a nightmare…"_

"…She would cuddle up to me, frightened out of her mind. I would try to comfort her, and it would work, until the next night. It had to be more traumatizing for her than it was for me." Denmark began to stroke Greenland's head again, his entire body tense. "But even though she had those nightmares, it…it was never this bad. She…" Denmark trailed off, gently kissing Greenland on her forehead.

"…you are saying that these nightmares are unnatural for her, da?" Russia asked. Denmark nodded.

"Ja."

"Well, for right now, let's let her sleep." England said, motioning to America and Russia. Denmark gently tucked Greenland into the bed, reluctant to leave her.

"Sweet dreams, daughter." He whispered, kissing Greenland's forehead before shutting the door.

**Translations: **

Дaнии – Denmark

Это хорошо, небольшой Остров Гренландия. Вы безопасны, да? - It is okay, little Greenland. You are safe, yes?

Far Danmark – Father Denmark

I had much writer's block for this. The action will start to pick up soon, I promise! :D


End file.
